I stopped once my entire section were out of the tunnel, taking the time to listen out for anything that might suggest that we weren’t alone. The station remained deathly silent, like a tomb.
I held my rifle just high enough to see over the edge of the platform with my visor and scanned the station slowly. It appeared to be deserted. Large metal crates were stacked along the platforms, their lids opened and their packaging discarded on the floor as though somebody had stripped their contents with total disregard for order or cleanliness.
‘Jackson,’ I looked behind me, ‘Give me a boost!’
Jackson moved up to me obediently and braced himself against the platform, cupping his hands over his knee. I stepped onto his hands, and with a little hop I placed all of my weight onto them and drove upwards. He let out a grunt as he propelled me up and over the edge.
I crouched on the platform and scanned again, whilst Okonkwo crossed to my side of the maglev rails to be boosted up by O’Leary.
My visor display remained passive. In the silent cavern, where everything had almost the same temperature my targeting system, it wouldn’t have easily picked out targets even if there were any. Even full-blown cloaking devices, uncommon as they were, would have been entirely useless. If there was nobody in the station, I concluded, at least nobody was about to fire.
Okonkwo leant over the edge of the platform and helped Jackson up, and we quickly spread out, taking up positions behind the scattered crates. Konny’s fire team emerged on the platform behind us, trying to be as quiet as they could.
‘What is this place?’ Jackson whispered.
‘It’s just a supply station,’ I explained, ‘The trains would drop off kit here, then it would go up into the warrens,’ I jabbed a finger upwards, ‘There’s probably kilometres of tunnels above us. The Chinese could fight through them for days - from the surface all the way down to here - then they could just jump on the trains and move somewhere else to do it all over again.’
‘Why don’t we just follow them?’
‘We would, but they rig the tunnels with explosives and blow them out. It takes ages.’ It also took countless lives, I thought, remembering the carnage.
‘Looks like the rebels have been in these,’ Okonkwo whispered, looking around at the mess left by the hastily opened crates, ‘I can’t imagine the Chinese leaving their station like this!’
‘That depends on how desperate they were,’ I replied.
The other sections clambered onto the platforms and the platoon quickly swept across the station. Troopers weaved between the crates in their search for any sign of the rebels, but there was nothing, only a series of wide access tunnels that sloped upward toward the Chinese warrens. The EW operator confirmed that not a single piece of electronic equipment was working within the station. The power was off, as it had been since the war had ended.
‘What do you think, Boss?’ Johnno asked once we had finished our sweep.
Mr Moore shrugged irritably, ‘I don’t know, do I?’ He turned to glare at Westy, ‘Come on, then, where did your mate say to go next?’
Westy looked annoyed, though not at the boss for his rudeness. He put his helmet in his hands, as if it might help him to think. He wanted to find Ev as much as I did, and I could see that he was racking his brains, trying to remember his drunken conversation.
‘Anything he said might be useful, mate,’ Johnno said, gently trying to help the Welshman to overcome his mental block.
‘All he said was to go along the tunnel away from Nieuwe Poort,’ Westy said. ‘He then said ‘Go up, just keep going up, and you will know exactly where I am.’’
The boss let out a short laugh, ‘More bloody riddles!’
‘That’s what he said,’ Westy snapped angrily, ‘We were drunk, I thought he was just talking a load of shit! How was I supposed to know that we’d end up here?’
The boss was about to respond when Konny approached with something in his hand, ‘I’ve found something, Andy.’
I held out my hand and he gave me a small piece of foil packaging. It was just a meal taken from a ration pack, designed to be consumed through a feeding straw. Nothing special.
I looked up, ‘Are you taking the piss?’
Konny shook his head, ‘No, take a proper look at it.’
‘It’s a piece of rubbish,’ Mr Moore waved his hand dismissively.
I turned the packaging over in my hands and raised an eyebrow, seeing what Konny had found interesting about it.
‘It’s not just rubbish,’ I said, handing it to the platoon commander, ‘It’s Union rubbish.’
The meal was taken from a Union ration pack, identical to the ones that we carried in our daysacks. There were only two kinds of people who used Union equipment - us and the rebels.
‘Where did you find it?’ I asked.
Konny pointed across the station, ‘Leaman saw it ten metres up one of the tunnels. We can’t see anything else up there, apart from that one piece of rubbish.’
The boss was still looking at the packaging, ‘This could have been dropped by Union troops back in the invasion.’
‘Unlikely,’ Westy argued, ‘If we made it down here then the Chinese would have blown out the maglev tunnels. Even if they hadn’t brought the roof in then if we would have mapped this place, just like we did every other major tunnel.’
I waited until Westy had finished, ‘Boss, look at the date on the packaging.’
I could see Mr Moore’s eyes widen slightly as he did so, according to the information printed along the side of the foil packet it had only been produced a few months ago, in Nieuwe Poort.
‘Those rebel bastards are stealing our food!’
Johnno laughed, ‘They’re welcome to it, Boss!’
Several of us shared a chuckle, it made us all feel slightly better to know that our enemy were eating them!
Mr Moore regarded us all, and we silenced so that he could speak, ‘There’s no guarantee that this piece of rubbish means anything, but it’s all we have. We will push upwards and attempt to make contact or reach the surface, whichever comes first. Corporal Moralee, you will continue to lead with your section, and keep Corporal Weston with you. Understood?’
‘Yes, Boss.’
He tossed the packaging to the ground, ‘I’ll let you know when to proceed. Gents, return to your sections.’
As we stood to go I patted Konny on the shoulder, ‘Well done, mate, cheers.’
Konny searched my face in the dark for any sign of ridicule, then, seeing that I was sincere, he nodded, ‘Thanks.’
‘Have the lads in order of march by the tunnel, I’ll be over in a minute.’
Konny nodded, and quickly ran away to organise the section for me.
Westy noticed me watching Konny go, ‘Does he still give you dramas?’
‘Not really. He’s alright.’
‘Oh? Only yesterday you sounded like you wanted to kill him!’
‘I know, but he’s changed a bit. I’ve seen a different side to him.’
Westy smiled, his teeth clearly visible through his visor, ‘Was that before or after you filled him in?’
‘I didn’t touch him!’ I replied indignantly. Then I remembered our scuffle in Eindhoven, ‘Well, alright, maybe I did, but there’s more to it than that. He made a mistake. One of his blokes was badly injured.’
The Welshman nodded slowly. None of us wanted the men under our command to get hurt or killed, especially as a result of our own decisions. It was a burden that all commanders bore upon their shoulders, and at times that burden could become too much.
The platoon advanced along the access tunnel, twisting and winding ever upward into the warrens. I would have been completely disorientated were it not for my datapad keeping track of where I was going, mapping out the route as I went.
The tunnel forked on several occasions, leaving us unsure of what route to take. We stopped and closed up together whilst Okonkwo and I scanned the darkness, trying to decide which route w
ay to go. Johnno quickly moved along the huddled line of troopers, tapping each man on his helmet as he counted to ensure that nobody had managed to get lost. It had been known for separated troopers to wander through the warrens for days before anybody found them.
At every junction there was something discarded on the ground in the tunnels, as if telling us which way to go next.
‘Does it seem to you that somebody’s leaving a trail?’ Okonkwo asked, as once again our choice of direction appeared to be marked, this time with an empty water bottle.
Okonkwo was right, it was as though somebody was dropping items on purpose, anything that he knew he could leave behind. Perhaps it was merely so that the rebels in the warehouse had a route they could follow. That made some sense, though the marking system was basic and a little difficult to follow without some pretty good night viewing equipment. Then I wondered if perhaps it was there for us. Was it possible that somebody was marking the route in the desperate hope that maybe we would follow it?
‘You think it’s Ev, don’t you?’ Westy whispered as I passed the message for the platoon to prepare to move again. It was as if he had read my mind.
I nodded, ‘I want to think that it is, yeah.’
‘Me too.’
‘What do you think they want with him?’
Westy shrugged, ‘I don’t know. It’s got to have something to do with that ‘Utopia’ thing he was on about.’
‘What did he say about it?’
‘He just said it was wonderful. He said it would inspire the people of New Earth to live in peace. I didn’t pay too much attention, to be honest. I was really drunk!’
‘This Utopia,’ I said, ‘I think that’s what the rebel meant when he said they were going to destroy his dreams before he dies.’
The Welshman chuckled, ‘They must really hate him!’
Funny, really, I thought everybody liked Ev. Even our old platoon sergeant sort of liked him, even if they didn’t always see eye-to-eye. I’d bet you half the Chinese would have liked him too, had they met him in a bar!’
I sighed deeply, ‘I just don’t know what to do, mate.’
Westy gripped me by the shoulder gently, ‘Me neither, mate. We’re in this together. Remember that.’
His words stabbed at my heart like a knife. I should have told him about Ev’s wife, I thought. Westy was good friends with Ev, but I hadn’t known him nearly as well. Who was I to hide something so important from him, in the mistaken belief that I was somehow protecting him from guilt?
The message for the platoon to prepare to move was passed back to me. It had got all the way to the end of the line and then returned, confirming that everybody knew and understood what was going on. I patted Okonkwo’s daysack to tell him that he was good to go, and we moved off once more into the darkness.
16
Utopia
The whistling sound increased as I approached the light, and I realised that it was the sound of the wind whipping past the warren entrance. It was daylight outside, our move through the tunnels had taken us right through until morning. I was exhausted, but I knew that our patrol was far from over, and my training overrode the natural desire to collapse onto the ground and sleep. I stopped a hundred metres back and listened for any other sounds to suggest that somebody or something was waiting for us outside.
I could almost feel my section waiting anxiously behind me, watching every move I made with weary eyes. Although they were relieved to be exiting the claustrophobic tunnels unscathed, they now feared the unknown, for nobody knew what lay in store for us outside.
Mr Moore had pulled Westy back to his command group, anticipating enemy contact. He had been reluctant to leave my side, like an older brother wanting to protect his younger sibling, but he knew it made sense. Still unarmed, the stocky Welshman was about as useful to me as a plastic dart loaded into my rifle, and so in a way, I was glad to have my friend out of the way.
I crept forward again, scanning through my sights. I couldn’t see anything but a sky shrouded in dark pink clouds. The weather was turning ugly, as though it were warning us of our impending doom; heavy clouds full of heavier rain.
I wasn’t going to see any more until I left the tunnel, I realised, due to the angle of the tunnel. I waved Okonkwo toward me, knowing that I would need him to cover the rear as I moved out. We stood back-to-back and edged outward, one deliberate step at a time, until our heads were lifted above the lip of the tunnel entrance.
We were inside a trench. The tunnel had been dug so that Chinese soldiers could emerge straight into it from the warrens below and catch the Union out as they advanced.
I stepped cautiously out into the trench, lowering my body so that I didn’t expose my head over the top. I didn’t want anybody to know that we were around until the last safe moment.
Battlefield litter lay scattered across the ground, from empty ammunition crates to medical waste. A fierce battle had been fought inside that trench, every single item I saw told its own story of pain, horror and misery. I remembered my own experiences in the muddy trenches and waterlogged ditches that had surrounded Jersey Island, and I shuddered.
I motioned for Okonkwo to follow me and I crept further along the trench, allowing space for the remainder of my section to exit the tunnel. Ahead of me it turned sharply right. I knew that trenches were purposefully built in a zig-zag pattern so that if they took a direct hit from some form of explosive then not everyone would get a piece.
I arrived at the edge of the bend, and leant out slowly. There was nothing there, just another bend twenty or so metres down. Maybe we hadn’t come out in the right place, I thought. Maybe instead we had found an old Chinese trench that probably hadn’t seen a single human since the war.
I glanced behind me, seeing that the remainder of my section were now out of the tunnel. Konny had them spread along the length of the trench with a few metres between them.
I turned my head upward to the lip of the trench. The wind blasted overhead, whipping up small bits of sand and gravel that showered upon my visor.
We couldn’t just stay hiding below the lip forever, I thought. If we wanted to know what was outside the trench, then one of us was going to have to have a look. I certainly couldn’t get one of my men to do it. I slowly straightened and stood just tall enough to see over the edge.
Instantly I regretted my decision. My eyes widened as I saw a menacing black shape just off to my left, mounted upon a tripod. It was some kind of automated machine gun, and it was directly facing me.
‘Shit!’ I exclaimed, and I fell backward against the far wall of the trench in an effort to get out of its way.
I brought my rifle around to fire, knowing that there was no way that I could possibly hope to defend myself against an automated weapon, since it could detect its victim and engage within milliseconds. I pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Shit! I had been so surprised by the robotic weapon that I’d forgotten that my rifle was still powered down from our patrol through the warrens. I quickly hit the power up button and brought my finger back to the trigger.
I hesitated. My heart was pumping hard against my chest, and my finger pressed hard against the trigger, though not quite enough to fire.
Why was I even still alive? I stared at the vicious looking machine for several seconds, but it sat dormant. If it had any intention of killing me, then it would have done so by now.
‘What’s up, Andy?’ Okonkwo lifted his head to look, then swore. He brought his own rifle up to fire instinctively.
‘Don’t shoot!’ I shouted frantically over the wind, ‘It’s not doing anything!’
My section stood up to look at the device that had caused their commander to panic and a few of them murmured surprise at the menacing machine.
I saw them all staring in the same direction and frowned, ‘Alternate arcs, lads!’
Snapping out of their daze, Okonkwo, Jackson and Konny quickly turned to face the other way out of the
trench, so that the section had complete coverage of the surrounding area. Like the warrens below them, trenches were often a chaotic and confusing environment to fight in, and there was always the possibility that our enemy were hiding in a neighbouring trench waiting to strike. We had to remain vigilant.
I slowly lifted myself out of the trench and crawled toward the weapon, keeping my body as low as I could so that I couldn’t be seen by a nearby observer.
It was some kind of heavy machine gun, larger even than our mammoth guns. A thick plate of armour shielded the body of the weapon, stamped with the stars of the Union. It was one of ours, though I hadn’t seen the model before. The concept was old, but the design was clearly new. It had obviously been stolen from a Union factory by the rebels, either in Nieuwe Poort or elsewhere.
I carefully inspected the weapon, and it didn’t take me long to work out why it hadn’t fired; it was switched off.
Mr Moore caught me as I slid my body back down into the trench, Westy and his signaller helping me down. His EW operator looked terrified.
‘What is it?’
‘Some kind of new automated gun,’ I said, ‘It’s switched off.’
‘Switched off?’ The boss frowned as if he were annoyed at the enemy for not doing their job correctly, ‘Who in his right mind would leave something like that out there and forget to switch it on?’
Westy stole a glance at it and laughed, ‘You’re one lucky bastard, mate! That thing would make you into mince!’
We were all lucky. Weapons like that were programmed to communicate with their masters, informing them at the same time as they engaged their hapless victims. If the gun had been working then the platoon would have had no choice but to abandon me and run back into the tunnel - their lives would have depended upon it - praying to God that a smart missile wouldn’t soon be following after them!
‘The boss kind of has a point,’ I replied thoughtfully, ‘It is a bit stupid not to switch it on. Maybe somebody turned it off.’
LANCEJACK (The Union Series) Page 24